Psychic Alarm

While I was drifting in that mysterious plane between consciousness and sleep, I got the oddest sense of deja vu and that familiar feeling that someone I know is in trouble. It is now an hour before dawn, and while the rest of the world slumbers I am fretting over an unknown problem. It annoys me, yet worries me all the same. The instant the feeling hit me, I fired off an SMS to Yushaa, which in retrospect, was a very stupid move. I don't know yet which person I know is in trouble, or even if this sensation is legit, but...believe you me, the sensation would have had to be extremely strong for me to have acted on it. It's odd, and now I suspect I will have to wait until the sun is high in the sky (the time when I am usually asleep) before the problem reveals itself. I never was good at the waiting game. *muses* I suppose I shall have to take what rest I can now, before the day's activites whisk me away. My game with Kenneth has calmed me down somewhat, and I believe the problem will arise soon and perhaps I may be needed to assist, but until then I can do nothing except rest my weary spirit. I am now vehemently sick of The Phantom Of The Opera, and the next person who even hums that tune shall die a violent, gruesome death worthy of the phantom himself. *grim* I know I cannot sleep with my mind in such an uproar, but still I have to try. My day today will extend far beyond normal limits, and if I find myself agreeable, I shall be home quite late. Therefore I need my rest, before I find myself to be another zombie among the mass of humanity that will surround me later. *tilts head* Although, you know...I find energy to be so prevalent in such crowds, that I fancy it is almost a tangible entity. Alas, I have no feel for the game, and I shall be going as an observer, one uninitiated into the ways of such a sport. Perhaps I can subsist on the veritable electricity that will charge the very air in Kallang Stadium tonight...if, that is, I am not busy drooling over possibly cute players. And if I get enough sleep, which I highly doubt at this point in time. The night is so fleeting...where has all that time gone to? Dawn has arrived. In between typing out this entry, fretting over something I cannot explain, playing and talking to Kenneth, morning has snuck up on me and now I find myself weary, yet still unable to rest. A mind-cracking migraine has begun its throbbing, and unless the sandman comes now, the general public will find me extremely cranky and sharper than usual. It is already six, and in the distance, the skies are lightening from a deep velvet blue to streaks of pink. Yet I am still typing as if I have nothing else to do! Ah, I give up. I will not be able to sleep anyway. A note in parting...I am surprised by how deeply people in general can blind themselves to what they simply refuse to see. It never fails to astound me, this self-induced blindness. *sighs* The birds have already started their morning call, cacophonous as it is. And for once, I have not observed the night! This realisation startles me...very well. I have to go and conceal my nocturnal nature now that it is time the world wakes up. I really can't decide what set my alarm bells ringing.
Why is Latin so favoured by practitioners of the black arts? Simple. Use a dead language to summon spirits.

Psychic Penumbra

My mood has been growing steadily darker throughout the day. For those who know of my fascination with the supernatural and forces as yet unrecognised by science, I am not inclined to walk upon the path of light and goodness. Penumbra is a Latin word that refers to shadow. Many misconstrue 'shadow' as a word with negative connotations. For those who only view the world as black or white, good or evil, right or wrong...I can only assume someone like me is therefore non-existent in your myopic vision. I have proven time and again that I am capable of the darkest deeds, yet in recent times I have surprised myself with remarkable restraint on my natural impulses. I am an Arian, one of the astrological signs of Fire. Yet fire itself is associated with warmth and light, when tonight I feel my aura darkening for reasons which I find no words suffice. I have been evading certain issues for far too long, holding out hope for a non-existent flame when there is no fuel for such fires to continue burning. I care not whether people can read these words and infer the meaning hidden behind my structured sentences. Seek, and ye shall find. My words may have meaning, but a glance will not suffice. The very act of spilling my dark thoughts out is cathartic. *thoughtful* I have been hiding flaws and darker emotions underneath a veil of amusement, using humour as a defense mechanism. Yet tonight, when all my defenses melt away, I find such tactics are unnecessary. Part of the reason for my dark mood today is the discovery of my old notebooks, written in my old handwriting. It is foolish to allow memories of a life long forgotten to resurface and overwhelm, this I know. But my heart has always been rebellious, and the war it fights with my mind is ageless. My handwriting back then wasn't as neat or tiny as it is now. It was scrawly, nearly illegible, yet the words I'd written down were clear and the pain was evident in each sentence. The act of forgiveness is not instant, and in some cases, it takes years to see the process to completion. Therefore I bear no grudges against the one who I've hurt and been hurt by in return. I do not feel the thrill I usually get when the sun sets and the darkness calls us creatures of the night to awaken from our diurnal slumber. Perhaps that is because tonight, I am part of the darkness that blankets this part of the world. I have been toying with several new theories, new perspectives, and perhaps tonight it is time I completed several tasks I have put on hold. The night is young, infantile still, and I have plenty of time to plan my vengeance against the one who has incurred my wrath. I am returning to my roots, regardless of the binding contract I was forced to sign four years ago. It was all a lie, and it took me four years to realise this. A grand illusion indeed, and I should be ashamed of myself for not seeing past the facade of grandeur and completion. *shakes head* Well, the cobwebs have fallen from my eyes, and now I believe it is time I regained what I relinquished so foolishly all those years ago. For those who understand, the two of you, know that my vengeance will come soon enough, long overdue after all these years. Perhaps when the first rays of sunlight reach me come dawn, the darkness that enshrouds me will melt away. But until then, I am perfectly content to sit in the relative absence of light and allow my soul to darken further.
De inimico non loquaris sed cogites.

Psychic Blitz

Had a blast today...went out with Phoebes in the afternoon, after oversleeping and missing our trip down to NAFA. A big oops there on my part. We went to the Esplanade library...our usual hangout. The piano room. I banged out The Phantom Of The Opera on the piano, along with other sheet music that I recently printed out. Seems like I had quite a following today. Lol. Either they were really annoyed with my playing, or they were interested to know how we got into the restricted access area. Lol. My aunt and cousin stopped by, and I was very heartened when Phoebe told me what they said to her. "He's not the piano player...he IS the piano." Hee. And here I thought I was the black sheep of the family, the one who was never good at anything. Then we saw Leon and Pei Yu...it was a day fraught with chance meetings. Then we (me, Phoebe, Leon, Pei Yu and Yushaa) went off to have B.B.Q. steamboat. It was excellent! At first I was wary of the sizzling and general heat, but then it grew fun! I did pretty well with the chopsticks after overcoming my initial amnesia regarding their use. We stuffed ourselves full to bursting. It was kinda fun...once I got over my fear of splattering oil. Yushaa kept threatening me to get me to eat. That was funny. Then we all went home, stuffed and happy. I've been contemplating my future, and I can feel the heat being turned up to 'high'. Ugh. Although, you know...a lot of people have commented that I have talent. But it's just a niggling feeling I have that talent might not be enough for me to survive in the highly competitive environment of a music institution. At times I doubt I have talent. *tilts head* I'll just practice really really hard and hope I get a place in LaSalle. (NAFA doesn't offer popular/world music) I'm currently obsessed with The Phantom Of The Opera. I have this urge to keep playing the song on my piano. The phantom has possessed me! *dramatic gasp* As for that incident I alluded to in my previous post...I have nothing more to say, except that my interactions with said person shall experience a sharp and frosty decline. Tomorrow I'm going back to my piano! =) I'll post more videos on my Youtube profile. I think it's getting stale. I have to broaden my repertoire. I still have the book Kit gave me, but so far I've only touched Moonlight Sonata and Rondo Alla Turca. =D I'm really really hoping I'll get this big break to make up for all the mess that litters my history. >.< *crosses fingers* I must blow the judges away. The audition requires a 25 minute recital. THat shouldn't be a problem, but I must be note-perfect. Not only that, I must be better than perfect. I must be magnificent and flawless. Nothing short of the best. I will practice until I can play blindfolded. I must make sure the audition is a breeze, and allow them to see my passion in the music I draw out from the piano. *determined* If I don't get in...*taps wooden table* I'll go dead and dry. Hmm. That's settled then. Everything that I did today, and most of the thoughts that occupied my mind. =) I hope I can impress the people who matter with my skill.
In all my fantasies, I always knew. That man and mystery are both in you.

Psychic Tempest

My blood has become fire that burns as it traces its way through my body. I have to think through the raging fires of my mind to remain calm and cool. Above all, I value my privacy. Hidden in my room are layers upon layers. Among the pages of my book are words written in my own hand, words that reflect the depth of my soul. In the boxes that I stack in the corner are secrets of a life I don't want my family to know. I have several mementoes from my past that I treasure so very much. They may appear to be meaningless and trivial to most, just words on paper, or gifts still in their wrapping, but to me they are so much more. Which is why it pains me so much to learn that someone has torn the wrapping away to peek into what lies underneath. I have lost the papers that I value so highly. It may look stupid to most, it's just paper with simple words on it. But dammit, it means so much to me. Yet, if I had not been looking for my earphones, I might not have seen the signs that someone has tampered with my belongings. I hate emotional confrontations, I have had enough of those to understand that while I may win in the heat of battle, I still lose the war. I must, must clamp down on my rising anger. Yet it is hard, when I see what has been exposed. A teddy bear stripped of his two year wrappings. It's fucking sacred to me! These words, no one may understand them, but they come from deep within me! To throw them away like bits of confetti, to rip away the wrappings that keep me together, to stride into my castle uninvited, it's like a slap in the face. Within the chaos of my room, there is an odd order. To just tear away the paper from a bear that has not seen the light of day for two FUCKING years...to touch something that I consider sacred... This is all that remains of something that was so beautiful it still moves me to tears when the stars smile down at me. I can't find the right words to describe it. It's like my own personal temple has been desecrated. That was the only thing that gave me hope on days when the skies were dark and gloomy. Our words on paper. The way we talked, written down in both our hands, him trying to cheer me up after our fight. They were physical manifestations of emotions I can never truly isolate and identify. It was all I had left. The presents, the papers with words of such simple beauty. I left the presents in their wrappings because I couldn't bear to open them. I read our conversations on days when I thought life was being a bitch. It gave me fresh hope and strength to carry on with the day. Those words and the presents themselves had meaning. I've been crying ever since I realised the intrusion an hour ago. I've lost the papers, and now the presents have been manhandled. The wrapping paper torn and ripped. I can't look at them anymore. The night had been so beautiful, and I was so content to sit in my room with my keyboard, weaving soft gentle melodies that soothed me. It all fell apart when I was looking for my earphones and realised the wrapping paper had been torn. The papers are gone. These tears that fall...I don't know if they are for what has been lost, or for the fact that the sanctity of my private space has been violated in the vilest manner possible. The fires that race through me will become a violent tempest come dawn. How dare she. This is my private space, with my words and thoughts spilled all over the place. This room holds many secrets, in every nook and cranny, details of my life, of the bits and pieces that merge to form who I am as a whole. The thought of her waltzing in and rooting around my private items, reading words meant only for two people enrages me more than I can say. Yet I know if I unleash my fury now, this tempest will affect me too. It is useless for me to say more. Not many will understand the significance three bears and a stack of papers have for me. Misery, pure fiery rage, sadness...only a few of the emotions that swirl in my heart right now. Love immortalised on paper. Pity that immortality was only a fleeting illusion that lasted two years. Now they're gone, I imagine lying in a rubbish heap somewhere, with the waste of society. The words of a beautiful soul, sullied by filth. The indignity of it threatens to cut off my air. I cannot grieve, not when there is a lesson I have yet to teach to the one who constantly intrudes into my personal space like a thorn that I just can't seem to get rid of. Words alone will not do; no. I must structure them in such a way that the reader understands the barbs hidden behind every sentence, understand that such intrusions must stop. These secrets are mine to keep, and seldom do I dispense them. I had hoped such measures would not have been necessary, but circumstances warrant the use of my cunning. These items, mere objects, yet relics of a past so powerfully moving that I know this loss will hurt for months to come. I have often scarred with just my words, yet I find such abuse of my gift tires me. I will not hurt for the sake of hurting, not intentionally, yet know a reason for such intent has arrived. It is time I placed limitations on who enters my castle with such impunity. And know now, all who know me and read my blog, that I will not hesitate to sear those who draw my wrath, as has this unfortunate soul who has spent the past year trying my patience. I have had enough. It is time to draw the line.
Alecto, Tisiphone, Maegaera, furies of vengeance, sisters of darkness, awaken and arise from the pit of forgotten shadows, from the abyss of nightmares into which you were condemned.

Psychic Truth

I've not been feeling very well recently. So I've decided to confine my movements to within these four walls until Friday. *sniffles pathetically* Now and then, hidden truths are found within the fabric of our existence, like pennies in the pocket of newly tailored suits. (My tailor has recently taken to substituting coins for buttons) Anyway, as I was saying, I've been ill, and I finally dragged myself off the floor to the bathroom at 3 in the afternoon. As I was contemplating the swirling waters pooling around my feet, I suddenly realised...I've been whining about people leaving me, but while everyone around me is moving forward in their lives, I've stubbornly plomped my ample butt on the track and refused to move. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, in a nutshell, I've chosen to be left behind. Hmph. And I thought to myself, the truth can be grand and glorious, but sometimes it's like that zit staring at you from the mirror, and you wish you could just pop it if not for the fact that it would leave an unsightly blemish. Slightly irked, I toweled myself dry and resolved to return to my scales with unshakable zeal. It would be nice to finally be able to teach officially. *muses* Ok, I'm going to dig my scales book out from wherever I chucked it.
Don't forget to remember me.

Psychic Pathway

Alright. The time has come for me to intensify my focus. I have been reflective these past few days (when am I ever not?) and miraculously I've succumbed to the cough/flu virus that's currently making its rounds. But! I'm regaining lost ground. Slowly, but surely. I've proven my capabilities in business, in philosophy. Now it is time for me to prove my worth in music. My instincts when I sit in front of the keyboard seem to have improved. I no longer stumble over notes. I think it's a residual effect from running up and down the scales all day long. My path is clear and shining, and I think I've cleared away most of the brambles that blocked it from my sight previously. Of course, I cannot guarantee that it will be the only path open to me, but for now, I'm patient enough to wait and see how things unfold. I was never one to make a move. I'd rather sit and observe, yet when the time comes, I'm sure I'll soar. I have to let my broken wing heal first, though. =) I'm going to meet Elina at Dover tomorrow for Phoebe's event. And I have a piano date this Friday! Woohoo! I'm so hyped! I can practically hear the piano calling me. Oh, and guess what? The business contract thing is going to drag until August because of legal complications the company has with the government. Typical. I weave a tapestry of blood and sweat, and it unravels when I least expect it, not because of anything I did or did not do, but because of external factors. Well, that's probably an exaggeration, but....AUGUST?! That's months from now! Ugh. My spirits have gained a much needed boost these past few days. =) I hope they can withstand the tumultuous storm I predict will be headed my way in the coming weeks. *crosses fingers* NAFA! Please accept me!

Touching video about homophobia

I can make it, I know I can. You broke the boy in me, but you won't break the man.

Psychic Defences

Perhaps it is just me, but my sharpness seems to have intensified these past few days. My defences are sky-high, and my elusive nature makes me feel evasive even more than usual. The past few days have been a blur of activity, and I'm alternating between panic at my applications, and confidence in my skill. The time has come for me to put my faith in myself to the test. *crosses fingers* It is time this directionless wanderer mapped out a new path in life. Everyone has been giving me encouragements, ranging from strangers to old acquaintances, so...it's been very heartening. I've got a piano date next Friday. =) I love the Esplanade area, it just gives off that musical aura and you half expect people to burst into song at any moment. Though I don't like the crowds on weekends. My dad topped up my Cashcard! I can grab any sheet music I want at the Esplanade library! *drools* Be still, my heart. I've been putting off going to Sembawang for a long time. Maybe the wounds deep inside will never heal, and the bridge has been burnt permanently, but it is not closure I seek. *tilts head* I shall leave it at that, for I know no one can decipher the meaning in what I've just said. *grins* I have the tendency to become cold and distant in the blink of an eye, and I think the sharp bite of my frostiness has become rather overbearing and is influencing people around me. Therefore I have resolved to keep my thorns to myself. With occasional barbs, of course. Ok, my mind is skipping about again. Ugh. Time for breakfast. My phone just started humming. *raises eyebrow* Ok. Weird. I think I must have dropped it once too many. *smacks phone on table* It's giving off a weird dial tone. Hmm. All right then, I've got to go plan what to do with my day (and my life). Hopefully my current defensive mood will wear off soon.
No fire is hot enough to melt the ice in your heart. I give up.

Psychic Explanation

Tonight, boys and girls, I feel very disillusioned with the world in general. I had a great day, had a blast hanging out with Seif. I've missed him. We spoke at length on our thoughts regarding philosophy, our destinations in life, and our general sense of detachment from societal pressures. Yes, do not be surprised. I am very aware that I am unusual in the sense that I do not feel the need to belong to a society, school or organisation. The problem with greatness of any kind, it seems, is that it does not come with an instruction manual. You must learn to handle the weight of your sword. Mine is my mind, sharp and cutting, but heavy and unwieldy. I can discourse at length on any topic that skims the surface of my mind. I make it a point to bring myself up to speed in terms of languages, philosophical debates, or anything that generally catches my interest. So I'm a dreamer, an idealist. I do not spend my time idly sleeping, or doing nothing in particular. My physical self may be still for hours, days even, but my mind is processing and analysing. If all anyone ever did was to work at some dead-end job just to have a wallet full of money, would we still know the Earth is round? What, may I ask, separates you from that person walking down the street? In Singapore, particularly, where the population is clustered and living in such close proximity...what is it that marks you as you? Do you want to grow up with a man/woman by your side, with perhaps a few children to complete the picture? Why, mankind throughout the ages has been doing that. What significance is there in such a humdrum life? No, my friends. I am not interested in such trivial pursuits. I am interested in the minds of great men, those who invent, those who create, those who think. THAT is what makes a man. Sure, I could grow up, get a decent job, work 9-5. But at the end of the day, what difference have I made to the world? Alexander Graham Bell, Confucius, Socrates, Plato, Galileo, Freud...all these men have passed on. Yet their legacy leaves on. Their lives were not in vain. They were not mindless drones who grew up, had children and died without impacting the world in some way. Having said that, I have nothing against couples raising kids. In fact, I think it is very noble that they are nurturing future leaders, thinkers, greatness. But what cuts me is that...where has that spark gone to? Have we killed inspiration for our future generations by our obsession with the paper chase? What do papers have to show? They do not reflect a person's true ability. Truth be told, I am very intellectually-inclined. I would rather spend a day speaking to someone who can hold his ground in a conversation with me, rather than spend an entire day working mindlessly for a job just so I can have material possessions. Far be it from me to proclaim so shamelessly that I am not materialistic. I am. I just have higher priorities. I want to cement my status as who I am. How many parents scoff at their children's ideals? My parents do. Heck, even my friends struggle with the idea that I am perfectly content to go down to the reservoir every night and sit in quiet contemplation of the world around me. Galileo fought societal views to educate the public on the error of their ways. Yet, society, look around you. The building you live in is a result of imagination. Had parents laughed off and discouraged ideals in children, we might still be hunter-gatherers living off the land. These children would grow up with superior intellect, but would never have the confidence to actually put it to use. What would be the point? No-one would listen. All the devices, the science, the theories...is a result of intellect at work. Erase that, and where would we be? HOw much growth are we stumping through sheer ignorance? I never overlook anyone. I have great faith in my skills at intellectual games, but I was once royally trounced by a cleaner at my school. I bowed to him, and until now I respect his superior intellect. Who cares if he is a cleaner? His job is no reflection of his intellect. How many stigmas and misconceptions must we address, society? I would give the same amount of respect to a homeless tramp had he shown the slightest ability to engage me in an intelligent conversation. Do not be deceived. I may use humour as a conversational tool, but I look at the words a person uses, at how they thrust and parry in our conversation. Why do we have this preconceived notion that we must all get a job and a good education? Is this a prerequisite to life? I'm afraid it has become so. Learning used to be an ongoing process. Now, apparently, it is a process measured by how well you do on generalised written tests. How is that a measure of intellectual aptitude? I am marked different because of my unwillingness to join the rat race blindly. These racers miss the whole point of life. They work, get married, have kids, blink twice and die. I watch people pass me by, and yet to me they are all the same. Perhaps I am of a different mould from the people that surround me. I don't know. All I know is that this difference feels very damning tonight. Seif's words have helped to calm my soul for the moment, and I am indeed very thankful that he is a kindred spirit. Had it not been for him, tonight would have ended very differently. Not everyone can understand a person's craft. Mine is to think, to understand the words of the world's greatest thinkers, and to understand the language of music. I have been ranting for quite some time now. It is not beyond me to restructure my thoughts and philosophies to correct flaws in them. And I know that many will fail to see my points. I have listed most of my grievances tonight, and I will save the rest for another time.

Psychic Melody

How do you cool your lips, after a summer's kiss? How do you rid the sweat, after the body bliss? How do you turn your eyes, from the romantic glare? How do you block the sound of a voice, you'd know anywhere? Oh, I really should have known by the time you drove me home, by the vagueness in your eyes, your casual good-byes, by the chill in your embrace, the expression on your face that told me you might have some advice to give, on how to be insensitive. How do you numb your skin, after the warmest touch? How do you slow your blood, after the body rush? How do you free your soul, after you've found a friend? How do you teach your heart, it's a crime to fall in love again? Oh, you probably won't remember me, it's probably ancient history. I'm one of the chosen few who went ahead and fell for you. I'm out of vogue, I'm out of touch, I fell too fast, I feel too much. I thought that you might have some advice to give, on how to be insensitive. These words lodge themselves deeply in my heart. A melody that captures the essence of a love lost and sundered. After months of counting each other's eyelashes, of breathing in sync, of soul and body entwining...how do you extricate yourself from such closeness? *tilts head* This song strikes a chord in my heart. It reflects the way I feel, still do after all these years. The closeness is something that can never be replicated, that spark is something that can never be explained. =) Is it a crime to fall in love again, though? I'd know your face, your voice anywhere. This song speaks to me on so many levels. I could just lose myself in its truth. =) Well, this is my parting shot for the week. I shall be going on a week-long hiatus to reflect and turn my attentions to other more pressing issues. I have been invited to partake in a new business project...as an author. Dare I take this step? =) Time will tell.
Destiny, will you allow our paths to cross once more?

Psychic Allergy

Attencion. I am now ready to officially announce my allergy to felines large and small. After (foolishly) crossing paths with a cute kitty, I cooed and patted my new friend...three minutes later, I was sniffing and sneezing and my eyes were growing redder and redder. Now I'm better, though fever plagues me. Mah-velous. Took a long hot shower, rinsed off all the residual cat fur and general grittiness, and now I'm here surrounded by wads of tissue paper and a wagonload of guilt. Stop it, conscience! I've dumped my scales book somewhere where it can't stare at me accusingly (under the coffee table), abandoned all clothes, and now I'm nursing a cup of tea and a raging headache. Now let me think. I'm meeting Seipo tomorrow at 11am...which means shuttling between buses while dragging some plastic bag of goodies. Whoopee. My ears are !#$%* clogged! Deep...breaths. AAARRRRGGGGHHH! I can barely see, I can't hear a thing, and my nose is running! Sandman! I summon thee! *points Sakura wand* Oh. I saw a lovely Fate/Stay Night chain thingy that I absolutely MUST get!!! Saw it at Comics Connection with Kenneth today. Boy looks good without gel, I must say. *winks* We had fun scouring the mall for presents for Marky Boy's birthday tomorrow. Happy birthday in advance Mark! I had fun...although one annoying woman glared at us when the wooden cross in front of me dropped. How I wish she'd verbalise what she was thinking...she muttered something, glared at us some more then walked out of the shop. Hey, in the first place, the cross just fell down. It certainly wasn't our fault. Hmph. Least...I don't think it was. Was it? Hmm. Anyway, we walked down to where Stephanie and Eng Yong were still eating. Then we walked around aimlessly, and stopped to look at horoscopes in Popular. I'm an Earth Dragon! =D My allergy is not subsiding, apparently. Damn it. After circuiting the mall, met Phoebe and we trundled down to Elina's place. Had fun watching Constantine, one of my new favourite shows, although I don't like the way it portrays the archangel Gabriel. The right hand of God. Then we sat in the dark and tried to spook each other out (it was a dismal failure). I've always been intrigued by the supernatural...always visualise what I would do if I'm up against a formidable supernatural entity. Hehheh. I have a few tricks up my sleeve should such a time come. Ah, night! For once I will not be awake to watch you rise from the darkness in your unearthly glory. Tonight I shall slumber as most mortals do, and drift through dreams of pain and darkness, where hell is not a fiery pit but a cold, lonely plain. Fancy that. It is barely eleven, yet my eyes are drifting shut. Must...finish.......typing..........It's just the allergy that's putting me to sleep! That's why my floor suddenly looks so enticing....*sniffs* Alright. Time for bed, to allow the moon's healing glow to wash over me as I slumber deep. Play date with Seif tomorrow...and finally! I'll get to eat my favourite carrot cake at the Kopitiam! =D This I cannot miss! A big hug for Kenneth and Yushaa and Elina and Phoebe. A pat on the back for Stephanie, Eng Yong, Amin and DOminic. Now I can no longer resist my corner's siren call, so it's away I go.
Bonne nuit, cher enfant. Dans tes langes blanches...A mother's lullaby lives on in the heart of every child.

Psychic Breakthrough

After weeks of misfiring, it appears my instincts are back at their optimum. After getting a weird sensation (trust me, the sensation is very odd) yesterday that something somewhere was wrong, Yushaa messaged me telling me that Elina was going to KK Hospital. Before that I'd told both Yushaa and Phoebe that I thought something wasn't right. I zoomed off to Dover to meet them (and Dominic) before we went to the hospital. Elina looked pale and bloodless, poor darling. She was warded with plenty of goodies (cookies, chocolates, ice-cream sundae. Standard emergency fare), and we were a pretty rowdy bunch. Heh. Arguing and quarreling as is standard. She did look cheered that we came down. =) We stayed till nine-thirty, and got to know her family a bit more. Her mum is nice. I met Benny on the train at Dover station yesterday too. =) He's tall-er now. Not tall zactly, just a bit taller than me. A bit! Slightly. Hee... So anyway...it's a lazy Saturday morning, and I'm supposed to go home and finish up the last bits of the business deal. The meeting's later on in the afternoon, and all I want to do is crawl back into bed. Speaking of which, I must commend the Accounting and Corporate Regulatory Authority (ACRA) for their operators' politeness and quick help. After spending hours struggling with the bloody website, I finally caved and called them up. The nice lady walked me through the whole process in ten minutes, and voila! I was done. Yesterday was truly a day of breakthroughs, in terms of finances and instincts. *sigh* I've been working hard for my music, and I hope it'll pay off. I have slightly more than a month left. No worries. =) You know, I never thought I'd say this, and please shoot me...but all those dry mind-numbing Accounting lessons paid off. All that mumbo-jumbo about Sole Proprietorship and Partnerships and whatnot. Eeck. All right...I've got to go and make sure everything's prepared for the meeting.
Here's a map and here's a Bible, if you ever lose your way.

Psychic Illumination

As I watch dawn lighten the velvet skies of night, I wonder at how much humanity has lost. True, we have gained much, but at what cost? Where once the earth was dark enough for us to view the heavens in their starlit glory unmasked, now earthly lights dim that glory. How many mysteries have been unravelled? How much wonder have we lost? I do not contest the fact that we are progressing. But sometimes it seems the cost of that progress is the wonder we used to have at the slightest sign of a puzzle. Soon all the joy of living will be lost, won't it? We won't wonder at UFOs, or psychic phenomena, or in the pure wonder of existence. Because when we hold all the keys, what mystery is left for us to ponder over? Perhaps that is why I view science with a tiny hint of scorn. Things like fortune-tellers, the auroras (borealis and australis) even, once inspired awe in the hearts of mankind. Now science tells us that the auroras are caused by collisions of particles in the Earth's upper atmosphere. Granted, it does not change the beauty caused by these dancing streams of light, but it takes away part of the charm. Is it just me? It seems like a pity to me that science is determined to end all inspiring phenomena that occur naturally, just by explaining the mechanics. Soon the world will cease to hold any wonder, that spark of inspiration that people find in looking at awe-inspiring occurences in the world we live in. Of course, scientifically-inclined people will object. I agree on some counts that science has gone a long way in benefiting humanity as a whole. Take the science of medicine for example. Millions are saved each year as a result. Yet...somehow I am unhappy with the way science erases wonders our ancestors once wove stories into stories, drew inspiration from. Imagine a child's wonder at seeing the world for the first time (not that he can remember it. Memories start from age 4, apparently. Hmph.) and then losing that wonder as he grows up. It is the same, isn't it? Age brings experience, and as our intelligence slowly develops...we listen to our heads more than our hearts. This applies to a broad range of topics. Where are the psychics, the romantics, the artists? What will become of them when science erases the magic of emotion? The ethical debate regarding science is not new, yet the dimensions of such a debate are unfathomable. This is just one fragment of the view regarding science. *sigh* The world we live in is splintered, seldom do we have unanimous agreements, yet I find that all agree on one thing. Humanity has lost its spark. We move, we live, we breathe. Yet we find no wonder in such an act. Instead we propel ourselves to better our positions in society, through better education, through better job offers. No one looks at the wonders of the world anymore, and those who do are trying to unravel its mysteries, thereby diminishing its very wonder. It is not the same when you view a mystery with an enlightened mind. But this begs the question...are we to remain ignorant just so we can draw upon inspiration? It is a tough question for me too, and I doubt that I will ever be able to answer with a clear heart and mind. There you go. *triumphant* Intelligence wars with instinct. My heart wishes to remain naive in its innocence, yet my mind quests constantly for answers. Our descent into ascension has already begun. *bows* I will still look upon the heavens with a child's innocent wonder, and feel hope blossom in my heart. Who else does that? *shakes head*

Psychic Rift

Sometimes it seems that life is nothing more than a dream. And I am a mere phantom drifting through its flows. The rift between us has not healed, even after all this time. And now I can see that more rifts are growing. How do I close them alone? My heart is heavy with melancholy on this chilly morning. Perhaps I am slightly saddened by my failure to revive a dead relationship. Perhaps. Occasionally, I wish I had the power to become translucent...and just fade away. Just have a few moments of peace for the times when I really need calm. Other times, nature soothes what I never knew was hurting. So I guess it's all fair and part of life. My room is cold, and the chill cuts to the bone. Is it my fear of failure, or the actual act of failing that weighs me down? On this issue...I think it is the former that cuts me so. I am afraid of losing the fragile bond we have right now. Scared that if I make the wrong move, it will shatter and I will lose the last thread that connects me to the man I love. The word 'love' is a mere mockery of what I feel, of what this mortal man has made me feel. I, who pride myself on the presentation of false illusions; I who have been capable of leashing my emotions so tightly that I come across as cold and unemotional to those I do not trust...all these come to naught in the face of the one man who has seen into the depths of my heart. I cannot move for fear of being checkmated. But even if I remain stationary, Time will mock me as he turns Night into Day...months into years. Even now, as I contemplate the ruins of my heart, the sun is emerging from his slumber and threatening to burn the cool darkness of Night away. Time has not failed since his creation, and there is no reason for him to hear my pleas now. *tilts head* There are subtle nuances in a person's heart...I seeded love with the intention for it to grow and blossom. Yet in my haste to savour the sweetness of its flowers, I moved too quickly and killed it instead. *sigh* Not many can understand my ability to remain deep in thought for hours at a time, and even close friends can be driven to hair-pulling frustration at my eccentricities. My family has long since ceased to attempt to gain insight into my strange ways and behaviour. I am one who can spend all night thinking, all day filling my room with music, and then spend the next 24 hours completely asleep with no regard for the consequences, trivial as they are to me. My moods are as erratic as my sleeping pattern. This, I think, is the chief cause of the rifts between me and those I hold dear. I am uncomfortable with emotion, and while it is easy to spill thoughts and words on paper or online, I find it much harder to speak freely when face to face with a person. I become much les eloquent and often stumble to find the right words to say. Yet I will not change the fabric of who I am, will not alter my essence at its basest to reconnect with those I've lost or alienated through my strangeness. These rifts...will they ever heal? I do not know. The sun is here, and the birds are riotous in their cacophonous harmony. The stars fade before the light of the sun...it is time for me to bow before a higher being and surrender my destiny.
These tears of blood spill from my heart into a river of regret.

Psychic Flicker

Ever had that sensation when you've just woken up and stared at the ceiling, and you fancied that shimmery flickers of light danced at the edges of your vision? Well, my heart is full to bursting with that sensation now. Greatness is at the tips of my fingers...I can't quite grasp it yet, but I know the time will come when it will drift into my grip and solidify. I was asleep the entire day yesterday, and was more than a little surprised when I woke up at 12 midnight. I shrugged it off to my brain needing some rest, and then puttered about the house, reheating food and reading comics/books. Calvin and Hobbes and The Circle Of Magic series by Tamora Pierce. Really fascinating reading material. I wasn't in the mood for Christopher Pike's philosophical insights in The Last Vampire series, though. Besides, I know them all almost by heart already. Now I'm going to watch The Simpsons! I love Homer's dumbness. He's like Peter from Family Guy, except Peter's more intellectually challenged. Ah, today it is back to scales and arpeggios for me at home. *shakes head* I'll be leaving at 8am, and taking along the stack of dusty musical tomes I have not touched since I ended formal piano lessons 4 years ago. It is time to strengthen the roots of my musical foundation, if I am to follow the path of my choosing. Playtime is over, at least where my piano is concerned. But for now...*grins* The Simpsons!! *cue theme song*
Red is my blood, as is my heart.

Psychic Ions

I spent the entire day in hibernation. Then at 7, Phoebe came over after church. We met up with Yushaa at NTUC, then went off to the reservoir to soak up negative ions emanating from the place. Apparently, positive ions which come from electrical appliances are bad for you. Negative ones which come from natural sources are good. Go figure. Ugh. In 8 more hours, I will be expected home to collect my package and watch DVDs. I'm sleepy! *amazed* And it's barely 12am! I'm eating cookies and...eew. Ick. The cookies taste like sushi. And that's not a good thing. My mind is friskier than a bunny in a field of carrots. It's like...my body is exhausted, but my mind is running wild and refusing to go to bed. On a serious level, I have taken that first step to mend that broken bridge. Who cares if there's too much water under the bridge? I'll be going OVER it, not under. I must mend this. =) And now I bet Yushaa is rolling her eyes and going, 'Oh, you guy.' Haha. Ok, so I can't fix everything...but I'm gonna try anway. Hmm. Suddenly I have a strong craving for pizza. AHHHH!! Someone give me a mental sedative! I think the ions are clashing. I saw Moo-cow today! That cute kitty! She came trotting over when I clicked my tongue and started playing with me. How cute. It reminds me of the sacrifices made by someone who hated cats once upon a time. *sigh* Destiny keeps pushing us further away. Either way, when the time comes...I pray my heart will not fall to pieces in the face of the one I love.
Gabriel, give me strength to end this completely.

Psychic Contentment

For once I have missed dawn's arrival, and slept through the awakening of morning. My piano calmed me enough for me to drift off to sleep. Of course, the thread of fire that marks me as an Arian is still present. Rather than remain at home and trigger a firestorm, I left. Met up with Yushaa and we walked under clear skies that were studded with stars. A bat delighted me with its sudden presence when it dropped out of a tree we were walking under and flew off into the night. I love the creatures of the night. They're so free and they learn how to use the darkness to their advantage. Anyway, my bladder asserted itself, and I had to slip into Mickey D's for a bit. Then I caught the last bus back to my place, and after washing up and talking to people online for a bit, the Sandman caught me by surprise. *contented sigh* In my hurry to leave last night, I forgot to bring along the package that was part of the reason I went home. That, and I want my piano, and I am supposed to help my mum clear her memory cards for their trip to East Coast today. Apparently, now they (my family) are hooked on roller blading. So they're going blading at East Coast today. And I am going to stay right here and watch morning unfold. Should I go home again? This shuttling back and forth does not appeal to me. I tried to defend my philosophical views from my mum last night. I do not normally divulge how my mind or heart works to my family; that saying 'once bitten...'? Yeah. But last night I was compelled to, and when my dad started in on the religion lecture, I decided it was time to spread my wings and flit off into the night. My departure probably took him off-guard, since I vanished in the blink of an eye without a word of goodbye. Hmm. A pale orange glow bathes me as the sunlight makes the streams of dust dance. Probably a sign I should start cleaning my room. Heh. I love the scent of hope, fleeting as it is.

My piano and me

Psychic Upswing

When I close my eyes and recline slightly, it is as if I am cradled in Night's bosom. I have been lax with my talents recently, and now it is time for me to pay the price. The sun's warm touch is not far now, and in the distance, I can hear the chariots of dawn. I have cast my illusions away for the moment, but I know that even this act is an illusion in itself. I have resolved to go home and not tear myself away from the piano that is my sole comfort and faithful companion through all these years. I can regain what was lost...but it will take time and effort. Tonight, the stars have failed to captivate me. Their lustre is lost on me for once. That magic, that spark has escaped me. My return to the piano is an attempt to recapture that. Will it be in vain? For my sake, I hope not. I have had recurring dreams. I hope Kenneth is fine. Aimi is coming over on Wednesday, and I hope the darkness that is hidden in the very walls of my sanctuary will not affect her current upswing out of depression. I've already planned a sugar rush for both of us, and hopefully Seif will make an appearance too. For once, I'm looking forward to going home, to embrace my piano. The soul of which is calm and reassuring. My grandmother has been unnaturally nice to me, and I wonder which direction this wind is blowing from. *shrugs* I am far too detached to care at the moment. I owe my cousin a visit, and while I dread my allergic reaction, I think it is time I returned to being the warm spirit known to all. It is time for my darkness to recede, just as the sun rises up. A giant ball of fire that represents rebirth and life. Hark, my icy heart is melting. Ah, the scent of flowers and hope. What a heady mix. I have two hours left before I leave for home. Hmm. I'll go to Sembawang tomorrow. I miss Baby, naughty as he is and prone to silly accidents. I think the Sandman has forsaken me yet again. I will return, hopefully with my zest for life intact and stronger than before. I who have nothing can lose no more. =)
I have forgotten your name, Lord of Darkness, brother of Night, son of Chaos.

Psychic Disenchantment

Recently, the fires of my heart have been raging away. Someone wise once mentioned that in a person's heart, there can only be three principal emotions. Love, hate or fear. I have, of course, experienced all three. The dominant emotion now is fear. Fear of obscurity. That I have left an indelible mark upon the one who has stolen my heart, I have no doubt. I have made every mistake possible, and I regret every single one of them. I think...men do not learn from mistakes until regret comes into the picture. I did not learn my lesson with Alex, nor with the guys that followed. Yet it was with the one that mattered, the one who slipped away...who taught me regret...that I finally learned. Perhaps...this incident holds more than one lesson in regret. Perhaps some things, once lost...can never be regained. I do not know. But I do know, that even years from now...even if I have to go to his grave and whisper these words that echo in my empty heart, I will not stop loving him. Some loves are meant to be, destined to glitter like the stars...eternal. Others are tragic in their burst of passion and heat that lasts only moments, like the beautiful comets that leave a haunting impression in their wake. Sometimes...when I close my eyes, I can relive the memories, the soft beat of his heart, the butterflies that erupted in my stomach when our gazes met. The laughter, the tears, the apologies afterwards that made the arguments seem trivial. How I felt invincible in the armour of love...some nights, I thought I could even glow and hold the darkness at bay. Yet when I open my eyes, all I see is the darkness that blankets me. For you see, I have lost that mystical armour worn by all victorious warriors of love. Do not misunderstand my musings to mean that I understand love to be violent and tumultous. I could stand on the top of the tallest tower, with storms raging around me...but with him, that calmness wove itself into my soul. I was unafraid. I was peaceful. Dare I say it...I was happy. How can this feeling defy logic? It is supposed to fade with time...not grow in strength. Where once stars adorned my soul...now only the black velvet of darkness remains. The slightest pressure threatens to crack me, and all I want to do is return to the safety of his arms. Who cares if the world mocks us for being gay? Who cares if they turn away in disapproval? If they shield their children's eyes from the evils they believe we embody? We had something pure. Something they could not understand. They with all their morals, they who taught their kids to hate. They who hate us for our capacity to love. If only Time responded to pleas...I would take away all the pain I inflicted. All the confusion, all the hatred. I curse my helplessness. My love is my weakness. Apollo lost Hyacinth. And I have lost you. Apollo was a God who could transform his lover's blood into a flower, the hyacinth. I am a mere mortal who can do no such feat. I can only love with all my heart and soul.
You were the rose among the thorns.

Psychic Grief

I am not entirely immune to the effects of time. The years drift by, but in this valley of despair I reside in, the darkness gives no indication of how much time has passed. Yet my body ages, even though my heart remains youthful in its naivete and innocent hope. A sweeping wave of melancholy and bitterness washed over me tonight. As the moon glowed brightly in its fullness, my heart ached with the weight of words long since spoken...yet the phantoms haunt me relentlessly. I knelt with my head in my knees, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill...into an endless river of regrets and sorrow. The moon appeared to grieve too, hiding her beauty behind a veil of black clouds. I wanted to lie down in the grove of trees, allow my tears to flow into the cradle of the earth, and let the phantoms taunt me. I feel I wasn't good enough. How many times have I lifted my face heavenward, and asked for the return of an angel? How many angels have flown away from me, confident that I could stand without them? The orange glow of sunset washed over me, and I felt like I was in purgatory, with the fiery pain in my heart being my penance. Is this my punishment? I dreamt I was running after him, but he was lost to me. I awoke with tears soaking my pillow, and pain razoring my heart. I have not spoken of my misery, except in shattered bits and pieces. And tonight, I don't know why...the night drew me out of the tower I hide myself in, and all the pain, the bitterness, the yearning...spilled out of my heart like an endless flood that was matched only by the tears I was fighting to hold back. How often have I shoved the pain away, so I don't have to deal with the heartache? I cannot fight Time, and his close cousin Change. I am powerless before these two formidable entities. I am but a mortal. Can I bring back an angel when I have nothing to offer but my undying love? I close my eyes, but it does nothing to hinder the tears that fall so freely. I can do nothing but cry and hope that one day...someday...before I breathe my last, that I will see him one last time and say the words I never could say.
I didn't realise how much it hurts.

Psychic Ennui

Sleep eludes me. *sigh* The air is still and chilly tonight. My writings lie unfinished on my bed, as scattered as the thoughts in my head. What is the purpose of existence? Had I been a straight male with good qualifications, the anwer to that question would probably be to get a good job, marry a sweet girl and have kids. Then I would proceed to expire. A fulfilling life indeed. Many questions form in my head tonight, and I am more than a little distracted. The stars are my faithful companions during these sleepless nights, twinkling with such elegance in the heavens. But I know that I can never be like the stars. The static life does not suit me. I am a creature of fire and passion, dynamic and instinctive. I live by instinct. The winds may pull and tug, but in the end, I can choose to lower the sails and row where my heart takes me. It just occurred to me that I lead a very Bohemian lifestyle. I guess this wandering is part of every man's journey to self-discovery. The frightening thought is...how many actually do find themselves? Realise who and what they are? Hmm. I've seen my fair share of death, and on each occassion, I've turned away to mourn the loss of life cut short, the failure to find themselves. Yet in my heart, I remember something I've read somewhere. 'The lambs of God go up to be with Him, and only the stubborn mules remain.' Something to that effect. *thoughtful* You know, fire has a very capricious nature. It can warm you on the coldest of nights, and it can also blaze out of control, scorching everything within its reach. It can go out and die without warning. Not a day goes by that I don't regret my fiery nature for scorching what I held so dear, and for killing off the fires in my heart. *sigh* The air is still and not a breeze stirs through the leaves. For the moment, my heart too is still and silent. Only the tiniest whisper of regret drifts through. The world still spins, and time slides past. I've been silently counting the years that go by. Days into months into years. Perhaps one day soon, a glorious epiphany will drop from the heavens and strike me like a bolt of lightning. Perhaps then I will be spurred on to greater heights. For now, I wheel around in the skies, free to fly but unsure of where I am headed. It's time. The wheel of time has spun, and now another year has been marked off. I do not regret leaving the old year behind, for the new year brings with it fresh hope. It is a terrible plant to tend to, hope, yet the fruit it bears is so sweet. Very well. I shall return to my writings with a calmer mind.
The years do nothing to diminish what I feel for you.